The Devil's Daughter (Hidden Sins #1)(68)

She didn’t blink. “Hurts like a bitch.”

At least that was honest. He didn’t like the way she kept brushing off his concern. Eden might be more than capable of taking care of herself, but they were all in over their heads right now. He rubbed a hand over his face, feeling a thousand years old. “William will be starting the autopsy right about now. I should be there.”

“I’ll go.”

It wasn’t an option. She could observe, but he had to send someone else with her or risk getting called on the fact that he was allowing Martha Collins’s daughter into the investigation officially. He cursed. “I sent Henry home, but let me see if I can find Chase to go with you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter. Just tell William that I’m there to observe, but not in affiliation with the department.” She sounded like she’d done this before.

It was more than that, though. The killer had already hurt her once. Zach didn’t like to think of it happening again. He held her gaze. “Take someone with you.”

She rolled her eyes. “You really are a mother hen.”

“All the same.”

“I will.” She reached out, hesitated, and then touched his forearm. It was only the briefest of moments, but it centered him all the same. Eden smiled. “Give ’em hell, champ.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE


Give ’em hell, champ? What the hell was I thinking? Eden trudged out of the police station, feeling like an idiot. It was a welcome relief from feeling responsible for all the murders, but that didn’t mean it was comfortable. Give ’em hell. She’d never been as good with words as her mother was, but she was better than that.

“Eden.”

She froze, blinked, and then grinned. “Hey, Vic.”

He must have come straight from the airport, because he had a duffel bag slung over one shoulder and wore his usual jeans, boots, and a buttoned-up shirt. All were designed to play down how large he was and make him less intimidating. From what she’d seen, it never worked. His smile didn’t quite reach his gray eyes, but she didn’t take it personally. That’s just how Vic operated. “Heard you were in a bit of trouble.”

“I’m not in trouble. I’m taking personal time and helping out a new friend with a case—unofficially, of course.”

“Of course.” He raised his eyebrows, and they’d worked together enough years for her to read between the lines. He didn’t believe she was an innocent bystander any more than she did.

Eden sighed. “Are you up-to-date?” It was an unnecessary question. She knew how he worked, and he’d have pored over the case files on the plane ride over.

Sure enough, Vic nodded. “You headed somewhere?”

“Autopsy.” She jerked her thumb at her car. “Want to act as official FBI consultant while I observe as a curious civilian?” And not just because Zach doesn’t want me going anywhere alone. She needed another mind on this—one that wasn’t connected in any way, shape, or form to Clear Springs. She was too close. Zach was too close. And there was no one else. Britton kept his own counsel unless it was an emergency—and what constituted an emergency in her mind differed greatly from what apparently did in his. He preferred to have his agents reason things out themselves because he claimed they all had better information being on the ground floor of an investigation than he did reading the reports. Eden thought that was bullshit, but she couldn’t deny she was a better agent as a result of his trial-by-fire methods.

Vic nodded and followed her to the car. He didn’t speak again until they were pulling out of the parking lot. “So much for taking personal time.”

“I was.” It tasted like a lie, and she didn’t make a habit of lying to her partner, so she cursed and clarified. “It was mostly personal. I knew there was a murder, and I knew it was connected with my past—which meant there was no way in hell Britton would approve of my coming here as anything other than vacation. I didn’t expect this.”

He leaned back, extending his tall frame as much as he could in the passenger seat. The top of his head brushed the roof of the car just like it did in pretty much every vehicle they’d ever been in together. “Walk me through it.”

So she did. The girls. The tattoos. The little present she’d been left. The fact she was pretty sure someone had been in her room at least once since she’d been in town, possibly tampering with her phone.

He waited a beat. “And your mother.”

Damn it, she didn’t want to talk about Martha. But then, that was the point, wasn’t it? She hadn’t exactly been forthcoming about her past the entire time they’d worked together, other than vague statements here and there. Vic didn’t push. He had a past, too, and understood that some things were better left alone. Word in their unit was that he’d been married back before Eden joined the BAU, and he’d had a partner who’d apparently burned out pretty spectacularly right around the time his marriage failed. But Eden didn’t ask, because he respected her enough not to ask about the bones rattling around inside her closet.

Except now he was.

“You read the report. You know.”

He looked out the window, everything about his body language seemingly relaxed. She knew he was doing it on purpose, but that didn’t stop it from calming her down just a little. “Some things don’t come across in the reports. I know it’s tough—”